


Not Beyond Repair

by grayimperia



Series: I'd Trade My Life for Yours [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayimperia/pseuds/grayimperia
Summary: “There are a lot of worlds or realities or whatever out there,” Iruma says. “Some are good, some are shit.”“And what kind of world are we in now?” Tenko asks.“I’m not sure,” Kaede says. “I guess that’s something we’ll just have to figure out as we go.”“Tenko thinks it’s a good one,” Tenko says. “Everyone’s alive, and… and that means it’s good.”-Kaede wakes up.





	Not Beyond Repair

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for my fic I'd Trade My Life for Yours. Non-canon.

There was forest outside of the cage. Kaede had never been particularly outdoorsy, and she had a lingering worry in the back of her mind about traversing the wilderness they were walking into. Still, it was the only way forward, and when she had said no to Shirogane and her execution, Kaede had also made peace with the fact that the hard path forward was the only one she was going to let herself walk from now on. 

Tenko would walk to scout a few paces ahead then circle back to continue reporting no obvious were trails insight. Hoshi hobbled along at Kaede’s side the best he could manage. Shirogane was calling out to them. Her voice only encouraged Kaede to pick up the pace. Kaede doesn’t know how long they had been walking for, but it began to feel like she was on a treadmill, and despite Shirogane’s panicked and increasingly distorted shouts, she didn’t seem to be catching up to them. 

The world seemed static. And then the world seemed dark.

-

Kaede gasps and jerks up into a sitting position. Something pulls as she moves, and she glances down to see tubes attached to her arms. That alone isn’t enough to panic, but the sight right above her shaking hand of Gonta lying motionless in a strange pod-like machine next to her makes her scream. More shouts join in with hers, but there’s little Kaede can do against the sudden swarm of people with surgical masks other than desperately swat at them. She manages to struggle enough against their grasping hands to hoist herself out of the machine she had been lying in and land hard on the floor.

Right before the world goes dark a second time, out of the corner of her eye, Kaede sees Yumeno on her other side sitting up and looking around with bleary eyes. 

When Kaede wakes up again, she’s in a daze, and the doctor at her side jokes that that’s likely the only reason she hasn’t pulled a repeat of her stunt in the simulation room. Even in her confusion, Kaede fights him on every answer he gives her, and it takes a painfully long time for him to explain what exactly the simulation room was. 

Two games. One where she lived and one where Shirogane executed her. 

The nurse who attends to her is patient and kind and confesses in a hushed tone that she thinks what Team Dangan Ronpa is doing is wrong. She ends up being the only reason Kaede doesn’t throw the dinner they give her at the wall.

She’s escorted to an office for a fuller briefing with the other survivors the next day. She arrives last and can’t help but stare at the others with owlish eyes. Without the bright costumes of the game, they all look stripped down and dull eyed. There are no hats or hair decorations, either, and Tenko’s long hair fluffs out around her when she shoots out of her chair at Kaede’s arrival. She throws her arms around Kaede’s shoulders for a hug that Kaede hadn’t realized how badly she needed. 

They sit down together, and though the basics had been explained the day before, Kaede feels her stomach lurch when she sees Maki, Saihara, and Yumeno sitting in a row next to her. Saihara’s gaze is full of longing when she notices him over Tenko’s shoulder, then an attempt to be friendly when he notices her staring. He smiles at her, and Kaede feels all of the boiling guilt she thought she was done with rise to the surface. 

She doesn’t get to see how he reacts to her face growing pale at the sight of him as the representative from Team Dangan Ronpa announces they’re going to begin now that everyone’s here.

“What about Shirogane-san?” Tenko asks.

Saihara’s eyebrows shoot up. Maki says, “What about her?”

Tenko fidgets under their attention. “Shirogane-san survived with us,” she manages to say. “So, shouldn’t she…”

“As Shirogane-san is one of our employees,” the representative says, “she will be undergoing a separate recovery process for the time being.”

“But she—” Tenko starts to say.

Saihara cuts her off with a curt, “Good.”

Tenko falters, tugging at her quickly fraying hair. Yumeno moves to sit forward in her chair to try and catch Tenko’s eye. Her worrying hands pick up their pace. Kaede leans over to whisper something reassuring to Tenko, and Yumeno shifts even more. 

The fuller explanation is briefer than the supposedly short one from the other day. They have only retained the memories of the game they survived, those who died in both games will have memories from both, for the moment they will not be allowed to watch footage from either game, their friends will slowly wake up—those who experienced the least trauma at death first—and given the rocky mental states of everyone in the room, they will remain together to undergo Team Dangan Ronpa’s patented killing game recovery regimen. 

They’re given copies of their weekly schedule and the representative pauses for questions. Tenko asks if she can have a hair tie. They give her a brush, too, and Kaede uses the escape route of volunteering to help her. 

When they’re alone in Tenko’s room, Tenko says, “Thank you for coming.”

“Ah, don’t worry. I kind of wanted to get out of there, too,” Kaede says. “Are you okay?”

“Tenko should be asking you that,” she says. “Tenko heard that when you first woke up, you…”

She trails off, and Kaede picks up where she left off. “I kind of freaked out, yeah. I didn’t know they told everyone that. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

Tenko shakes her head. “You don’t need to apologize. Tenko just wanted to make sure you didn’t get hurt.”

“I’m okay,” Kaede says. She rethinks her choice of words. “Physically, I’m okay. I think that’s probably the best we can do for now.”

Tenko agrees with a sad smile. Hoshi finds them two minutes after their retreat. Tenko jumps at the sounds of the door opening, and Kaede is quick to assure her, “It’s just Hoshi-kun.”

Tenko relaxes, and Hoshi says, “So you are hiding from someone,” as he settles in a chair next to them.

Brushing out Tenko’s long hair is therapeutic and allows Kaede’s mind to settle enough for her to provide a rational answer. “Which one of us are you talking to?”

“Whoever’s idea this was,” he says. 

Tenko pulls her knees to her chest. Kaede says, “it was pretty mutual.”

“That’s what I thought,” Hoshi says. “Told Saihara you probably just needed a minute to process everything.”

“Thank you,” Kaede says. “I’ll… talk to him later.”

“What are you going to say to him?” Tenko asks.

Kaede sighs. “I don’t know. I’ll probably try to gauge how he feels, and just… see where things go.”

Tenko nods, her thin hair shifting under Kaede’s hands. “That sounds like a good idea…”

“Hey, Hoshi-kun,” Kaede turns to him. “Did you talk to him at all or…?”

“You want to know how bad it is?”

Kaede winces. “That’s not a good answer.”

“It is what it is,” Hoshi says with a shrug. “It’s good he’s alive, though.”

It had been obvious when she had seen him only moments before, but the words lift a weight from Kaede’s chest. She speaks honestly. “Yes, it is. Everyone’s alive.” She pauses in brushing Tenko’s hair to wipe at the tears forming in her eyes. “I can’t believe everyone’s alive.”

Tenko hugs her again, and Kaede feels Hoshi gently place a hand on her shoulder. She manages to laugh, “I have to stop falling apart in front of you guys.” Tenko tells her she shouldn’t worry about that, and Kaede thanks her by eventually gathering her hair into a loose braid. 

There’s a knock at the door, and Hoshi silently volunteers to check who it is. It’s hard to describe the Maki standing in front of her. Her eyes seem less red and more a ruddy brown, and she doesn’t carry herself with the tight precision of a soldier. She says, “There’s lunch in the dining hall. It’s on your schedule.” She pauses for a second. Then, “you should hurry up. Saihara and Yumeno are waiting, and they get annoying when they’re impatient.”

It strikes Kaede as strange that Maki lingers in the hallway, waiting for them to collect themselves, rather than just walking off on her own. Kaede is surprised again when Maki breaks the silence once they gather together almost immediately. “After you left, they told us that we’re not allowed to tell each other how we died yet. I think we should break that rule.” Maki threads her fingers through her loose hair. “Or at least, I want to know what happened to me.”

Kaede furrows her brow at the request. Hoshi says, “You were shot. Probably.”

“‘Probably?’” Maki echoes.

“None of us know exactly what happened,” Kaede says. “You didn’t go to a trial, so the Exisals probably…”

“So,” Maki says, “I wasn’t executed.”

“No,” Kaede says. “You weren’t.” Maki takes the information with a silent nod. Kaede prods, “Did you want to be?”

“No. I just… I wasn’t expecting something different,” Maki says. “I have more questions, but I think Saihara would want to hear the answers, too.”

Saihara and Yumeno are sitting side by side at a long table meant for sixteen. Despite being the only people present in the barren room, Yumeno still raises an arm, and says, “hey, over here, Harumaki.”

Maki rolls her eyes. “That’s a stupid nickname Yumeno calls me sometimes. Just ignore her.”

“Ah,” Tenko says. “Momota-san called you that in our game.”

Maki’s eyes widen. Then her expression relaxes to something fond. “I see… that idiot.”

“Ouma-kun called you it a lot, too,” Kaede volunteers. 

The softness vanishes. “Of course he would. Asshole.” 

Maki stalks over to Saihara and Yumeno as if her words were explanation enough. 

Saihara offers Kaede another hesitant smile when she sits across from him. “Hey,” he says. “Are you feeling better? I mean, not better as in good, but, um…”

“I am. Thank you,” Kaede says. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” he says. “It really is.”

Yumeno huffs, bouncing in her seat. “Why is everyone acting all mopey? We’re all happy everyone’s alive, so we should act like it! Hey, Tenko!” Tenko jerks at the use of her name. “Look, you can tell I’m happy!”

Saihara smiles gently down at her, and Maki rolls her eyes, though there’s a smile on her face as well. Tenko stammers, “a-ah, yes, Tenko can see that.”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” Yumeno asks.

Tenko quells her surprise enough to smile back at her. “Yes, Tenko is very proud.”

Yumeno turns to Saihara and jostles his arm. “See? I told you she would be.”

“I never said she wouldn’t,” he says, though Yumeno seems uninterested in listening to his response as she gets up from her spot to circle around the table to sit next to Tenko. 

“Saihara, I don’t like you less,” Yumeno says. “But you know…”

Saihara remains patient. “I do.”

They’re quiet as the implications of Yumeno’s words settle in. “So, speaking of which,” Hoshi says. “Everyone else should start waking up in a few days, and if the order is based on how they died…”

“I suppose that is on everyone’s minds,” Saihara says. “It’d be nice if we could get the chance to talk to each other a little bit first, but—”

“Hoshi is right,” Maki says. “We’re going to have to wait several days for even the first person to wakeup. Let’s share information before they start policing us not to.”

Saihara doesn’t seem to like that answer, and Kaede can tell he’s trying to silently signal something to Maki. “Harukawa-san is right,” Kaede says. “We all have other friends who didn’t survive either game, so it’d be nice to know when we can expect to see them again.”

“That wasn’t my thought process,” Maki says. “But that is another reason.”

“Then what were you thinking?” Hoshi asks.

Maki’s expression tightens. “If I was killed in one of the games, I would want to know who my murderer was.”

Kaede feels her chest tighten. Saihara was in front of her now, and it was a countdown until she’d have to face Amami. 

Hoshi sighs. “That’s fair.”

“If Tenko killed someone, she would like to make it up to them, but,” Tenko bites her lip. “If she was a victim, then Tenko doesn’t want to know.”

Saihara’s brow furrows. “Huh?”

“What do you mean you don’t?” Yumeno says. “You need to know so you can stay from hi—”

“It was a simulation and we were forced to,” Tenko says. “And… and Tenko doesn’t want to blame anyone or fight anymore. Yumeno-san said we should be happy now, so that’s what Tenko wants to do.”

Yumeno frowns, but the only thing she mumbles under her breath is, “you were a victim, by the way. You didn’t hurt anyone or anything like that…”

“Tenko is glad to hear that,” she says. 

Saihara places his hand over his mouth. Maki says, “Akamatsu and Saihara already know what happened to them, and I’m going to guess neither of you want the details of your executions.”

Kaede winces. “I’d prefer to skip over that part, yeah. And since we already told you yours, that just leaves Hoshi-kun and Yumeno-san.”

“Tell me,” Hoshi says. “Afraid I’m not like Chabashira.”

Kaede notices Maki clench her jaw, but Saihara’s the one to answer. “You were a victim. Tojo-san was the culprit.”

“Hmm. I see.” He pauses. Then, “have to admit I don’t really know what to do with that.”

“Tojo-san was a very responsible person,” Tenko says. “She’ll probably want to apologize to you.”

Hoshi agrees with a distracted, “maybe…”

“Okay, now what happened to me,” Yumeno says. “And, um, I want to know more details and stuff. U-Unless I was executed, and if I was I’ll cast my ‘you forget all the specific words you were trying to remember spell.’”

Kaede is a bit baffled at her declaration, but says, “Well, good thing that isn’t a problem I guess.”

“Yumeno-san would never kill anyone,” Tenko says. “She died trying to save us like Harukawa-san.”

The surprised expression on Maki’s face makes Kaede remember they left that part out of their brief description earlier. “I can try and elaborate,” she says. “You both worked with Ouma-kun to try and disrupt the game, and—”

“And we both got killed for it?” Maki says. “That happened to everyone he forced to work with him in our game, too.”

Yumeno screws up her face. “Why would I work with Ouma? Why would _Harumaki_ work with Ouma?”

Saihara nods. “That is pretty hard to believe, but I guess that just shows how different things were.”

For all Kaede disliked Ouma, she can’t help but feel sympathy as she recognizes his name is a sensitive topic. “Um, speaking of Ouma-kun,” Kaede says. “He poisoned himself in our game, which isn’t great, but not the worst, so he might be one of the first ones to wakeup.”

From the glances the other three exchange with each other, Kaede assumes she spoke too soon. Maki details his death in the bluntest way possible, and Kaede only feels her sympathy grow. Tenko says, “Poor Ouma-san,” at roughly the same time Yumeno says, “He got what he deserved.”

The rest of the conversation is noticeably tenser. Angie is brought up as an early possibility and then shot down. There is general bafflement over Kiibo’s situation. Kaede feels her stomach twist into knots when Amami is agreed upon. Saihara’s voice is nervous but hopeful when he asks, “What about Momota-kun?”

“He was with Harukawa-san when she died,” Kaede says. “So he was probably shot, too, but he was also sick, so…”

“He was with me?” Maki asks.

“Volunteered to stay behind,” Hoshi says. “He was dead set on it.”

A small smile creeps onto Maki’s face. “He always was too stubborn for his own good. I’ll have to talk to him about that.”

“Momota-kun might wake up soon, then,” Saihara says brightly. “In our game, he died of his illness before he could be executed. I don’t know how being sick effects things, but I’m going to believe in him.”

Despite the positivity in his words, one part strikes a very wrong note to Kaede. “He was going to be executed?”

“He killed Ouma-kun,” Saihara says. “It was part of this plan to stop the game, but I don’t think the details matter given our situation.” He must notice the distraught expression Kaede couldn’t resist making as he hurriedly says, “o-or I could tell you now if you really want to know.”

“No, that’s fine. It’s just… hard to believe Kaito would actually go through with something like that,” Kaede says, before the way she refers to the boy in question catches up to her. “Oh, um, we were also good friends, and he does this thing where he calls people—”

“I know,” Saihara says. “He did the same thing for me. And, you’re right. We had a hard time with that trial because it was so difficult to believe that Momota-kun would ever kill someone.”

“Even someone like Ouma,” Maki says, and Kaede notices that Saihara doesn’t seem bothered by her addition in the slightest.

Kaede feels like she could hug Hoshi for taking the bullet of asking about the elephant in the room. “Okay so,” he says. “Not gonna deny Ouma is annoying, but… what did he do in your game?”

The question seems to confuse them. Maki says, “He was a liar,” and Saihara and Yumeno nod as if that is explanation enough.

Yumeno still chooses to elaborate. “He got Gonta killed. And Momota and Iruma, too.”

The story that follows is anything but pleasant, and when they finally finish, Kaede can see that Hoshi’s mood has shifted. Tenko says, “That sounds horrible, but…”

“But what?” Maki asks, her disdain for Ouma coming through loud and clear.

“The Ouma-san Tenko knew was different,” Tenko says.

Saihara stares quizzically at her again as Yumeno answers her concern. “He was a liar, so he was probably lying to you guys.”

Kaede finds that excuse hard to buy, but she feels like she’s on thin ice enough as it is and changes the topic. “Um, who haven’t we talked about yet? Oh, Shinguji-kun was executed in our game, so I think he’ll probably be one of the later ones. We weren’t close, but it’s kind of unfortunate since I think it’d be nice to have someone as calm as him around sooner rather than later, you know?”

Tenko and Hoshi offer their agreement. “Tenko wishes Shinguji-san hadn’t committed murder, but from the way he explained it, Tenko still thinks he’s a good—”

“No!” Yumeno shouts. “That’s wrong! He—”

“Yumeno-san,” Saihara says. “Remember when Chabashira-san asked—”

“—killed people for his stupid sister—”

“ _Yumeno-san._ “

“—and he’s a freak! And he hurt you and Angie, and—!”

When Yumeno stops yelling, Tenko excuses herself from the table. Kaede goes after her, and hears Yumeno say, “Did I mess up?” right before she leaves the room.

-

Between individual and group therapy sessions and sticking to Tenko’s side at all times of day, Kaede manages to avoid a one-on-one conversation with Saihara until after the first—Tojo—wakes up. Tenko doesn’t mind her presence, either. 

On the first night, Yumeno had whispered in hushed voices with Saihara, who Kaede belatedly realized was acting as her wingman. It didn’t seem like he was doing a very satisfactory job as Yumeno waved him off with a huff before gathering herself together to push her dessert across the table to Tenko as her olive branch. She asked softly, “are you still mad at me?”

Tenko replied, “Tenko could never be mad at you, Yumeno-san.”

Yumeno’s eyes lit up. “So you still love me, right?”

“Um,” Tenko’s eyes widened then locked with the tabletop. “Y-You are very important to Tenko.”

Yumeno seemed happy with that answer. She turned to brag to Saihara and missed the way Tenko inched closer to Kaede. It was a bit cute when Yumeno would ambush Tenko with flowers she stole from a vase in one of the team Dangan Ronpa member’s office or badger Saihara into being her assistant for some magic trick she wanted to perform for her. Yumeno getting frustrated at her lackluster responses and Tenko quietly admitting to Kaede in the dead of night that she doesn’t know what Yumeno’s expecting from her are less cute. 

In the days leading up to Tojo’s revival, only Hoshi and Maki seemed to be at ease. Kaede bit her lip before she admitted in her private therapy session that she thinks she would have preferred to be in their position. Waiting seems easy. It’s too hard to think when a reminder of everything she did wrong says hello to her every morning. 

None of them knew Tojo too well, but she’s the first to wakeup and her room is crowded with all of them when she’s allowed visitors. Tojo’s expression falls when she sees Hoshi and requests a moment alone with him. Kaede wonders if that’s what made Saihara remember they’ve yet to talk things out.

He begins their conversation by beating around the bush. “You know, Chabashira-san seems really different from how I remember her. I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“She went through a lot,” Kaede says, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “I mean, we all did, but she was almost always one of the first to find someone’s body. And she was the only person who would help us when we got hurt. That takes a toll on someone.”

“That makes sense,” Saihara says. “I didn’t mean what I said in a bad way. I’m sorry if it came across that way. If anything, it seems like a good change. She’s a lot more mature and forgiving, and I actually think Yumeno-san is driving her crazy sometimes, rather than the other way around.”

He laughs a little, but Kaede has a hard time finding anything about what he just said funny. But she also has a hard time arguing with him. She says, “I think everyone’s different.”

“I don’t know about everyone,” Saihara says. “They told us you started fighting back as soon as you woke up, and all I could think when I heard that was,” he smiles fondly at her. “That’s Akamatsu-san.”

Kaede knows it’s supposed to be a compliment. “Ah, thank you, I guess?”

“Oh, but I mean, I also think you are right about other people being different now,” Saihara says. He looks away, and Kaede notices a red tinge appear on his face. “I-I know I changed a lot because… because of you.”

Kaede works her mouth a few times, and decides upon, “you did?”

Saihara doesn’t seem to notice her confusion. “Yeah. I definitely had other people like Momota-kun support me, but you’re the one who started everything. And… and I’m really grateful to you. You mean a lot to me.”

Kaede is breathless. “What?” 

Saihara finally picks up on her distress. “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put so much pressure on you or anything like that, Akamatsu-san. If you don’t feel the same way, I—”

“You don’t hate me?” Kaede asks.

“Wha—” Saihara looks somehow even more panicked than Kaede feels. “No! O-Of course I don’t hate you! I could never—why did you think something like—”

“I manipulated you, and took advantage of your trust, and lied to you,” Kaede begins. It feels like a faucet inside her has been turned on and the words flow fast. “And then even after you told me what you went through in the past with your first case and how badly it hurt you, I still put you through the trial, and—”

“No, none of that’s true! Akamatsu-san—”

“And I even killed you!” Kaede says. “I started the killing game—both killing games!” 

“But you didn’t actually kill Amami-kun,” Saihara says. “Shirogane-san did, and she just framed you. You were innocent.”

“It’s still my fault he died,” Kaede says. “If I hadn’t used you and lied to you, then he wouldn’t have been in a position to die.”

“But you were innocent,” Saihara insists as if she hadn’t heard him the first time. “Your trap failed.”

Kaede throws her hands in the air. “So? I shouldn’t have set it up in the first place. The fact that I was willing to kill at all—”

“What happened wasn’t your fault. Everything was Shirogane-san’s—”

The conversation gets worse before it ends on Maki knocking on the door to tell them she can hear their shouting through her wall. Kaede walks away having learned that Saihara doesn’t hate her for killing him. He loves her.

-

Talking to Amami is a breeze by comparison. He’s confused and pleasant when he wakes up—just like he was in the game. Like with Tojo, his revival is novel, and everyone shows up. 

Tojo and Hoshi seem to have made peace with each other. From what Kaede can tell, Tojo wasn’t close with any of the other survivors, and she exists in an awkward middle space between them. She isn’t a maid anymore, but she busies herself like one until Maki looks her dead in the eyes in one group session. “We aren’t our talents anymore. That stuff doesn’t define us.”

Yumeno pouts. “But I still like magic.”

“That’s fine,” Maki relents. “But there’s no point in acting like our talents are all we’re good for. I… I want to be myself first. I can’t remember who I was before, so maybe that’s impossible, but if I believe then…” she glances across the group to exchange a knowing look with Saihara.

It’s still so strange hearing Maki talk like that, but from the bits and pieces Kaede picks up she has a vague image in her mind of Momota sitting down and forcing everyone to hold hands. Or maybe he built a giant gold statue of himself and cabin fever set in badly enough that they all started worshiping it.

The thoughts are amusing to her, but Maki’s declaration makes Tojo excuse herself for half an hour. In the days since, Kaede would find her sitting down at a table staring hard at her still hands. She would proudly announce that she was doing nothing when Kaede asked her how she was. Another day, Tojo had shifted uncomfortably and sounded more confused than anything when she shared the information that Hoshi was retrieving her dinner for her. 

Kaede watches her restlessness. Is that what it means to improve? But she still ducks around corners when she sees Saihara at the other end of the hall. She’s in no place to judge.

Kaede also notices Tojo going out of her way to befriend Hoshi. And she knows Yumeno said something about her frustrations at Tenko spending all of her time with Kaede to Tenko the other day, and they stand on opposite sides of Amami’s room. Maki seems to grow more irritable everyday Momota refuses to wakeup. The longest conversation Kaede and Saihara have had since Tojo woke up was when he asked her to pass the salt at dinner. 

But everyone smiles for Amami. Kaede lingers behind when the others clear out and bows her head when she apologizes. Amami says, “So that’s what happened. You were tricked too, huh?”

It’s much easier to accept that she was a foolish pawn than an innocent angel. 

Amami doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the briefness of his existence in either game. The closest he gets to saying a word against Kaede is, “you and Saihara-kun both tried to claim you killed me? Huh, guess I should be careful around you two.”

He laughs. Kaede doesn’t. “Um, don’t worry about Saihara-kun. What happened was my fault.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Saihara-kun told me the same thing. Except that it was Shirogane-san’s fault.”

“No, well,” Kaede says. “Yes, she is responsible, but if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have…” she lets out a shaky sigh. “What I’m trying to say is that if you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.”

Amami says, “I’m not mad.”

“Well,” Kaede shifts uncomfortable under his serene gaze. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

He hums again. “That’s a strange thing to say.”

Amami is like Tojo—accepted by everyone but without a fixed place in the group. He doesn’t show any signs that this upsets him, and Kaede has to wonder what it would take to get a reaction stronger than a tired sigh out of him. 

Kaede doesn’t think she envies him, but she can see the appeal of his easy drifting in moments when Yumeno stomps over to her and Tenko, Saihara’s arm in a vice grip. “See?” she says, jostling Saihara who looks like he would very much rather be somewhere else. “I have a best friend, too. Me and Shuichi are best friends, so I’m not jealous at all.”

“Ah, Yumeno-san?” Tenko says. “Tenko isn’t sure she understands what—”

“It’s fine that you like Akamatsu more than me,” Yumeno says. “I’m not upset at all. I didn’t want to talk things out or get mad at you or th-thank you or anything like that at all! B-Because I have Shuichi like you have Akamatsu, so it’s fine.”

Saihara stops trying to avoid eye contact when Yumeno begins to sniffle. “Yu—”

She snaps her head up. “But if you want to we should hang out, a-and Akamatsu should be with Shuichi because he’s sad she’s avoiding him. S-So if we do that then everyone will be happy, and—and…” Yumeno trails off, and Kaede can see whatever impulse drove her to them drain to nothing all at once. “And never mind.”

“Yumeno-san,” Tenko says. “We are friends, and Tenko is happy to see you—”

“Then why don’t you act like it!?” Yumeno snaps. “You’re always sad and quiet now, and,” her face crumples. “Shirogane was right, wasn’t she? You only liked me because she made you, and now that we’re out of the game…”

Yumeno runs away, and Saihara hesitates for one awkward glance at Kaede before going after her. Tenko is frozen in place and only jerks backs to reality when Kaede places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

She stares at Kaede then at her hands in her lap. Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Yes… No.” She looks up to Kaede. “Tenko doesn’t know what to do.”

Kaede doesn’t know what the right answer is either. It’s selfish, but Kaede can’t help but focus on Yumeno mentioning whatever odd, horrible thing is floating between her and Saihara, even if it was just a prop in her fight with Tenko. She isn’t sure what the right answer is, but she does know she’s selfish and she doesn’t want to fall Yumeno’s grand plan to pair off into neat little sets. 

“It’s not you,” Kaede says. “I think Yumeno-san was expecting something different, and that’s not your fault or her fault. It’s just… it’s just how it is right now.”

It’s not comforting, but it is real. Tenko bites her lip.

There’s an art room because art is therapeutic, and Yumeno makes Saihara brightly colored matching friendship bracelets the next day. It’s less therapeutic when he forgets to wear it, and Yumeno casts her “you suddenly have to do laundry” spell with a fistful of red paint. 

Saihara’s good natured enough about the incident. Maki snaps, “You’re behaving like a child. Everyone is going through something right now, so stop acting like you’re special.”

Kaede hears from Hoshi who heard from Amami who heard from Saihara that Maki apologized later. She hears directly from Tenko that Yumeno slipped an apology letter under her door. It has a sweet, crudely draw pictures all in red.

-

Iruma’s next. She lasted longer than Tojo and Amami put together, but she doesn’t draw a crowd. Kaede, Tenko, and poor Amami, who doesn’t know anyone, are her visitors. 

Iruma doesn’t know she’s quietly being rejected by the others, but she still wastes little time attaching herself to Kaede’s side, jabbering about how she’s her best friend and none of the others ever respected her. Kaede does consider Iruma a friend in spite of her abrasiveness, but she has to wonder what her time was like in a game where her supposed best friend died immediately. 

Amami says, “Oh, hey, Iruma-san, Yumeno-san told me you were strangled with toilet paper,” as if he were informing her it was a sunny day. “She also said… um, what was it—oh, that it was a fitting end.”

Kaede thinks Amami is the only person she knows who could say such a thing without it sounding like an insult. Tenko winces anyway. Iruma trips over herself to explain, but her words get jumbled together and Kaede is left wondering what on earth could make someone like Gonta kill. 

She asks. The answer is a dark look and one word. “Ouma.”

None of her visitors have the information to contradict her, and Kaede doesn’t think she wants to ask anyone who does. 

Iruma follows up with, “little bastard got me killed in both games.”

“Well, you did try to kill him,” Kaede says. “So I don’t know if it’s really his fault that—”

“What the fuck, Bakamatsu?” Iruma throws her hands in the air. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” she says. “I’ve just been hearing so many bad things about Ouma-kun lately that I’m starting to feel sorry for him.”

Iruma shrugs. “But if you do shitty things you deserve to be shit-talked. You wanna go bitch at the other sluts for being pissed off at the asshole that killed them?”

Kaede raises an eyebrow. “You know you did some pretty bad things, too.”

“Uh, yeah. When Kiibo…” Iruma fidgets for a moment before plastering a smile back on her face. “When Kiibs gets his ass up outta bed, I’m gonna show him what it really means to be a real boy.” 

She starts cackling. Kaede tries to smile. 

All things considered, Kaede thinks having Iruma around is a nice change. She can derail a conversation faster than anyone else and adds a needed levity to group therapy sessions. Kaede does wish Iruma would keep a few of her comments to herself, especially when she says, “Are you fucking kidding? Shittyhara basically wanted to marry you!” within Saihara’s hearing range. “Like, poke a hole in the condom kind of—”

Tenko helps Kaede shut her down, but Kaede chalks that up as one more reason she can’t look Saihara in the eyes.

When Gonta wakes up, Iruma hesitates before agreeing to go with the welcoming party. Gonta’s eyes go wide and he scrambles to press his forehead to the ground in apology when he sees her. Nurses shoo them out of the room to help Gonta back into his bed and reattach the machines he had managed to upset. Kaede can’t help but notice that Hoshi got to stay.

“Well, I guess I can forgive him if he’s gonna act like that,” Iruma says after the fact. “You know, just because it’d be pathetic if big dick kept acting like that all the time…”

“That’s very kind of you Iruma-san,” Tenko says. “But Tenko also understands if you’re not ready yet.”

Iruma twists her fingers in her hair. Kaede can’t help but glance at Amami out of the corner of her eye. 

-

There are enough of them to make the facility feel small, and the weather’s turned from brutal to tolerable. Gonta is far and away the most excited about the garden’s availability, but almost everyone else pulls on a sweater or two to come see the sun peek through the clouds. 

Iruma’s friendship keeps her a few feet from Gonta, but Kaede can’t help but smile watching him and Hoshi, and Amami and Tojo, too, sitting together in the grass. She makes out Tojo teaching them how to make the flower chains she learned when she was little, and Amami laughs when he tells her he’s already an expert. 

Saihara and Yumeno are their own little duo. Kaede admires how tolerant he is when Yumeno jumps in the lingering puddles too close to him with her rain boots. She reasons it’s that same patience that’s convinced him to let her come to him one day to sort things out. But that day isn’t today, and there’s a porch swing that fits three even when Tenko frets over Iruma kicking too hard against the ground and making the whole thing creak and groan. 

Maki stays inside. Maki likes to stay inside and tug at her hair and stare out the window longingly even when there’s nothing to stop her from walking out the door next to her. 

Kaede doesn’t talk to Maki, but she hears things about her. In a circle as small as theirs, no one can keep anything secret. Kaede knows that waiting for Momota is wearing Maki away at the seams, and Maki knows that Kaede used to hate her. Neither of them say a word to each other. 

Whatever ban Team Dangan Ronpa wanted to put on sharing information never had a chance against Iruma. They lull back and forth on the swing, and Iruma tosses her head back and laughs. “God you should’ve seen the shit show that everything turned into as soon as you kicked it, Bakamatsu.”

“That sounds a little extreme,” Kaede says. “I mean, obviously—”

“Like, yeah, you were crap at stopping the cult shit, too,” she says. “But at least whenever horseface or murder bitch started acting up, you’d smack ‘em around a little.”

Kaede frowns. “I don’t think that’s what happened. And even if it did, I don’t think that’s a sign that I’m a good leader.”

Tenko says, “Kaede-san is a very good leader.”

“You’re better than space case, but that’s not saying much,” Iruma says. “How the hell he managed to get a harem, I’ll never know.” Kaede wants to question that, but Iruma keeps going. “But, like, I’m just saying, something’s fucked up when the serial killer says he’s gonna watch over you from beyond the grave, you know?”

Tenko stiffens. “Well,” Kaede says. “I’m not sure if that’s really Kaito’s or anyone’s fault.”

“It’s not about who fucked up,” Iruma says. “It’s just a sign from the universe.”

“Do you,” Tenko says, “do you believe in fate, Iruma-san?”

“No,” she snorts. “I just believe…” she waves a hand towards the sky. “There are a lot of worlds or realities or whatever out there. Some are good, some are shit, and that reality was a shitty one.”

Kaede looks out under Iruma’s hand to the group sitting in the grass. “And ours was a good one?”

Iruma thinks for a second. She shrugs. “Nah, not really. Still garbage, but… slightly better garbage.”

“And what kind of world are we in now?” Tenko asks. 

Iruma looks to Kaede for the answer and ends up following her gaze. She glances back down to her shoes just as fast, stretching out her legs and clicking her heels together. “Dunno.”

“I’m not sure either,” Kaede says. “I guess that’s something we’ll just have to figure out as we go.”

“Tenko thinks it’s a good one,” Tenko says. “Everyone’s alive, and…” she nods to herself. “And that means it’s good.”

Kaede smiles at her. “Are even the boys good?”

“They’re… tolerable.”

Iruma leans back. “God Miss Andery, you’ve gotten so boring. Look, Shittyhara’s talking to donkeyface. Go smack him.”

Tenko frowns. “Tenko thinks she should smack you for saying that about Yumeno-san instead.”

“H-Hey! I didn’t do anything! It’s not my fault she has a donkey face.”

Kaede pinches the bridge of her nose. 

-

They’re told they can leave once they get better. Kaede doesn’t really know what better is supposed to mean, but she finds herself drifting through the halls in a daze enough that she doesn’t think she can argue she isn’t there yet. Their strange half life feels long during the day and alien at night. 

Iruma hated sleeping even before the game, and her twin sets of memories of losing her head haven’t done anything to help the situation. Kaede knows she’s lucky. She isn’t being stabbed, strangled, or brutalized in her dreams. Instead a cloud of dread hangs over her, and she can’t help but feel she’s about to find a dead body behind every door she opens and she can’t stop opening doors in whatever tangled maze she’s in. But there’s no gore and no corpses. Just her and the dread. 

She doesn’t wake up screaming or in a panic—just unsettled. Her skin crawls too much her for to get comfortable enough to shut her eyes again, and that’s what drives Kaede out of her bed in the middle of the night. There’s technically a curfew, but she knows that if she let that stop her, she’d be the only one following it. The light on in the lounge lets her know someone else is breaking the rules that night, too. Even if it means they’re also having a bad night, Kaede can’t help but be thankful it’s not just her.

She pauses out of view in the doorway to spy who it is, vaguely aware she’s ready to turn and run if it’s Saihara. Yet with her sleep clouded thoughts, Kaede almost wishes it was him. A sign from the universe that she needs to stop running. But it’s not, and she moves quietly but with enough purposeful noise so she doesn’t startle Gonta sitting at the window too much when she steps into the room.

His head still snaps to her. “A-Ah, Akamatsu-san,” he says. “Are you having trouble sleeping, too? Or did Gonta wake you?”

He hadn’t been making any noise, and Kaede has to wonder what scenario he’s imagining wherein whatever he had been doing drifted down the hall to only her room. She doesn’t say any of that. “No, just,” she shrugs with a half smile. “Dreams.”

“Oh,” Gonta nods. “Gonta is sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” she says. “It’s not your fault.”

“Ah, Gonta knows,” he says. “He is still sorry, and, um, thank you for talking to Gonta even though you are Iruma-san’s friend, and she…”

Gonta’s gaze falls to the ground. “I’m your friend, too,” Kaede says. “Or at least I’d like to be. And don’t worry about Iruma-san. She just needs space right now, like how you might when Angie-san or Ouma-kun wakes up.”

He chews on his lip, taking a minute to process what she just said. “Gonta doesn’t think he’s mad at them, but,” he lowers his voice. “Hoshi-kun is, so… maybe Gonta should be.”

That doesn’t surprise her. Kaede knows Hoshi has been less than fond of Iruma for giving Gonta the cold shoulder even though he forgave Tojo in seconds. “I don’t know about that,” Kaede says. “Everyone is processing things differently, so just… do what feels right.”

He fidgets. “Gonta thought he was doing what felt right in the game.”

“I know,” Kaede says. “I… it’s complicated.”

They both go silent and let the room’s clock tick away the seconds. Kaede tries again at conversation, asking, “so what does bring you here at three in the morning?”

“Gonta was thinking,” he says, “about what happens next—what’s outside. Gonta wanted to try looking out a window, even if we can’t see the city from here. It’s probably not a very nice place, but…”

“It’s what comes next,” Kaede says. She lets herself lean back into her chair as if it could support the weight of her problems. 

“Gonta thought the world was so bad before that he did something horrible to Iruma-san. And… And if this is a world that was happy something like that happened then,” he pauses, biting his lip. “Maybe it’s just as bad.”

“Maybe,” Kaede whispers. She knows the her that Gonta knew would say something inspiring about living anyway and soldiering on. Instead she says, “living is hard, isn’t it?”

Gonta stares out the window. “Gonta thinks if he knew what was coming next maybe it would be a little easier. Bugs don’t live very long, but they try to do everything they were meant to while they’re alive. So… if we knew what we were meant to do…”

“If we had a purpose,” Kaede says. “That sounds nice. Living just for the sake of it—that’s hard.”

“Akamatsu-san,” Gonta says. “You sound like Hoshi-kun.”

She laughs. “Ah, I guess I do a little. It’s that kind of night.”

“Also, um, Akamatsu-san,” he says, suddenly sheepish as he stares at his hands folded in his lap. “Gonta is happy you’re alive.”

It’s hard to stay melancholy at that. “I’m happy you’re alive, too Gonta-kun.”

And it’s not a lie. Kaede gets up to stand behind him and stare out at the distant city lights. For all the toil and hurt brewing between everyone, Kaede knows that this is so much better than the future she had been expecting—one where she grows up with a few scars on her limbs and her mind, and everyone who died from Gonta to Saihara become ghosts of people she used to know when she was young. 

“Hey,” she says. “If Hoshi-kun starts talking like I just did, give him a little chop on the head and tell him it’s from me.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Um, Gonta doesn’t think he’ll do that.”

-

The excitement for new arrivals would have lulled if it was anyone besides Momota. Kaede considered him a good friend, and one of her regular sources of entertainment the past few weeks has been imagining just what he did to get Saihara and Maki to trip over themselves every time his name comes up. She’s still blindsided at the sight of both of them in tears when they rush to his side. 

Kaede and the others silently agree to let them have their private reunion, and she visits him the next day alone. “Hey,” she says. “You’ve probably had more than enough welcome backs for a lifetime, but…”

Momota does seem tired. Everyone had had a few days alone to recover when they first woke up. Just enough time to get them reasonably well adjusted and hungry enough for contact with someone other than Team Dangan Ronpa personnel that they would set aside their lingering exhaustion when they were allowed visitors. Momota had had a longer waiting period than everyone else, and he still looks exhausted. 

He gives her a relaxed smile. “You kidding? I was starting to think you forgot about me.”

“I don’t think anyone could do that.” Kaede says, pulling up a chair at his bedside. “I have to admit, I had no idea you were so popular. Well, I had some idea, but…”

Momota laughs. “Yeah, Shuichi and Harumaki both got a little excited, huh? Hope they haven’t been talking about how great I am too much.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Kaede says. “They have.”

He smiles, then rubs the back of his head as his expression changes to sheepish. “Also, uh, a lot of my memories are sort of jumbled, so if I say something weird…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kaede says. “If anything, I can help you out. That’s what partners are for, right?”

Momota grins. “Hell yeah it is.”

Momota is probably one of the people Kaede can be the most honest with, and he seems relaxed around her in a way she notices he isn’t when everyone else comes to greet him throughout the day. Maki and Saihara both show up again, too, and both look uncomfortable around Kaede.

It’s a relief that Momota doesn’t comment on it, instead opting to clear his throat with an awkward cough when Maki leaves the room. He lowers his voice to something conspiratorial. “By the way, is Kokichi hanging around somewhere?”

“He’s still asleep,” Kaede says. She has an image in her mind of Ouma sprinting down the halls to jump on Momota before the nurses okayed visits. She laughs as she shares the idea with Momota. “I can’t imagine what it’d be like trying to get him out of here.”

Momota laughs too, but his confidence is missing. “Yeah… I hope you’re right about that. Guess I’ll just have to jump on him instead.” Something is bothering him and he says, “Hey, can I tell you something?” before Kaede can ask what’s wrong. “I dunno if Ouma—Kokichi—fuck, I don’t even know what to call him—I dunno if he’d… actually do something like that or even wanna see me at all.”

“What are you talking about? I think he’d be annoyed you got yourself killed, but, well,” Kaede shrugs. “I thought he was going to kiss you or something before he got executed.”

Momota’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Uh.”

“Okay, actually I was pretty mad at you at the time, so I probably wasn’t thinking that,” Kaede says. “But in retrospect I feel like it could have happened.”

“I dunno about that,” he frowns, rubbing the back of his head. “But—I know this is gonna sound weird—would you mind, you know, not saying stuff like that around Shuichi and Harumaki? Even though Maki should…”

He trails off, and Kaede jumps in when she realizes his own memories are confusing him. “It actually doesn’t sound as weird as you’d think. I… don’t really talk to them much, but I get the feeling they didn’t get along with him in their game.”

“We all fucking hated him.” Momota takes a deep breath. “I don’t really remember what happened where, but… I know I promised I would protect him, and then I killed him.” He presses a hand to his forehead. “Fuck, the reason why I had to ask you what was going on with him is because I knew it would be a bad idea to ask Shuichi and Harumaki.”

Kaede thinks carefully before she speaks. “Still, when I knew you, you guys were really close, and Ouma-kun will remember that. So that counts for something, right?”

Momota leans back in his bed. “I hope it does.”

“Well,” Kaede says. “If he was awake now, what would you say to him?”

Momota’s answer is immediate. “I’d apologize. For,” he presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, “so much shit.”

Tojo had told Kaede that Ouma was a nuisance at best. Gonta had said that he didn’t want to think Ouma was a bad person. Iruma had made herself very clear on the topic. And Amami—who knew him the least—gave the most glowing review, describing him as a mischievous kid in need of guidance.

Kaede wondered how they would all react to hearing that someone wanted to give Ouma an apology rather than the other way around. She says, “Well, we don’t know how long it’s going to be until you can do that, so maybe you could try writing a letter. Get everything out while it’s still fresh.”

Momota isn’t too sure of the suggestion at first, but he takes to it once Kaede puts a notebook in his hands. He asks her for advice on and off in his scribbling (“hey, what’s a word for when you’re frustrated and kinda mad but, like, you’re pissed off because you don’t want to be pissed off?”), and Kaede wouldn’t feel right abandoning him. 

There’s a knock at the door before Saihara gently pushes it open, Maki behind him in one of their routine visits. Momota scrambles to flip the notebook shut and shove it into Kaede’s hands. He forces a laugh and says, “you’re right, Kaede, that, uh, that song would be perfect for communicating with life on other planets.”

Kaede plays along. Maki expresses surprise that Momota can read music, and Momota says he hears Tenko calling for Kaede.

Kaede comes back the next day, notebook in hand, and Momota gives her a sheepish grin.

When he’s finally satisfied with his message, he asks Kaede to sneak it into Ouma’s room, and also makes her pinky-promise not to read it because even if she helped, it’s really private. Kaede promises and flips open the notebook to the first page of the finished letter as soon as she’s out of Momota’s room.

It’s as clunky and convoluted as Kaede has realized Momota’s memories are, and it’s heartfelt in the clumsy but earnest way Momota always is. It also contains the nicest things Kaede has heard anyone say about Ouma since she woke up.

The strategy she decides on to get it into Ouma’s room goes like this: They’re not allowed to visit anyone still asleep, and it’s likely a nurse checking on him would notice if there was something stuffed under his pillow. Instead, she finds more paper and recruits Tenko into folding paper cranes with her for everyone who hasn’t woken up. Iruma blunders her way in as well even though she complains that most of them don’t deserve it. Kaede mentions offhand she could probably write something on the ones they give to Kiibo, and it’s only a matter of time before he ends up getting twice as many as everyone else. 

Kaede feels like a spy on a mission when the gift is accepted, and Momota grins excitedly at the news and goes on a story about how JAXA allegedly has folding paper cranes as a test for astronauts. It’s silly, but it’s probably the happiest either of them have felt for a long time. 

He’s released from bed confinement soon after, and conversation between them becomes increasingly scarce. It’s no mystery. Everywhere he goes he has Maki, Saihara, or both glued to his side as if they were afraid he would disappear the second he was left alone. 

Even if things weren’t awkward at best, Kaede thinks she would prefer not to talk to him when he’s with his sidekicks in hero mode. The Momota she knew certainly had his bluster and bravado, but he was human. The Momota she sees when he’s alone in his room is human. The Momota who just keeps smiling for Maki and Saihara, and Yumeno too, looks like he’s made of plastic. 

When they’re all rounded up into group therapy, he leans back in his chair and says he’s got nothing to share while Kaede thinks about the letter he poured his heart out onto. 

Kaede elbows him at the end of one session, whispering into his ear, “You know Harukawa-san and Saihara-kun already have a therapist, right?”

Momota acts like he didn’t hear her. 

-

The day Shinguji wakes up is tense.

It starts with a sign from the universe. There’s rain so heavy, they’re all trapped together inside the increasingly tight walls of Team Dangan Ronpa’s murderless prison. 

From her spot firmly between Tenko and Iruma, Kaede can only distantly hear whatever conversation is happening elsewhere in the dining hall. Momota and his loud voice are an exception. 

Saihara and Maki, and Yumeno doing a poor job pretending she isn’t listening in are gathered around him as he begins to prattle on about the time he fought two giant robots with nothing but his fists and a can-do attitude. For all they adore him, Kaede gets the feeling Maki and Saihara only half listen to him when he starts to go on about his increasingly nonsensical heroic tales. But this story is one she knows. It’s not make-believe—it’s a memory. 

“So we’re in our spaceship when we hear this super loud crash, and after our last battle, me and my partner are kinda hurt, but we still run the hell out of there as fast as we can. And, like, the entire time we’re running there, the noise just gets louder and louder, and neither of us have a fucking plan, but that doesn’t matter when danger strikes!” 

He gestures. Maki and Saihara give him a nod and an awkward smile, respectively. “That sounds, um, pretty heroic, Momota-kun.”

“Oh, it was,” Momota says. “So we finally get there, and there are these huge purple robots just firing explosives at this door—oh, and the robots were purple and shit ‘cause Kokichi painted them as an apology or some shit—but anyway, there we are, and—”

“What?” Maki says.

Momota frowns. “What’s up? Was I going too fast? Uh, I can backup. So me and my partner—”

“No,” Saihara says. “I don’t think that’s what Harukawa-san’s talking about. You said, um, something about Ouma-kun.”

“Uh,” Momota says. “Huh. S’weird—wonder what I was thinking.” He gives a forced laugh. “Guess I’m just having an off day. My bad.”

“You’ve been having a lot of off days,” Maki says. 

Momota glances around like he’s looking for an escape route. Apparently he finds one. “Ah, well, you know. Waking up takes a lot out of you, ‘specially when you got more memories than everyone. I probably should be in bed right now.”

Saihara comes to his rescue. “If you’re feeling tired, Momota-kun—”

“Actually I am,” he says with a smile. “I always get kinda sleepy after eating. I’ll see you guys later.”

He leaves, and Kaede keeps listening in to overhear how unsuccessful his excuse was. “Saihara, you’re a detective,” Maki says. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

“I try not to investigate my friends—”

“Do you know what the hell’s wrong with him or not?”

Saihara squeezes his eyes closed for a second. “It’s not that hard to figure out.”

“Then explain.”

He looks around the room to see if anyone’s watching, and Kaede snaps her gaze down to her untouched food. Kaede doesn’t hear whatever he whispers, but it makes Maki disappear for the rest of the day. 

The announcement that Shinguji is awake and will be ready for visits tomorrow comes immediately after. Yumeno jerks at the news and stares at Tenko with concern from afar. It’s still raining, and there’s still no escape from each other. 

Tenko asks Kaede if she wants to fold more cranes, and Iruma steals their paper to make one paper airplane after another. They sail across the dining hall and the lounge and the art room and wherever else she wanders. She laughs when one catches Amami in the back of the head. She stills when one comes to an abrupt stop as it collides with Gonta’s shoulder. 

Gonta picks up the crumpled paper as if it were as delicate as a butterfly. He gives a nervous glance to Hoshi before making the trek across the room. He bows his head and holds it out in his huge hands to Iruma. “Sorry. Gonta didn’t mean to break it.”

Iruma looks somewhere to the side of him when she huffs and tugs at her hair. “You didn’t do shit, dumb ass. You,” she frowns at the ground, “you don’t need to apologize if you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Gonta’s eyes widen. “Iruma-san—”

“So, yeah, whatever,” she says. “You can keep it. Genius invention from me to you.”

Gonta nods hurriedly in his thanks before rushing back to Hoshi to show him the paper airplane like it’s a something precious. 

Iruma fidgets but not in her usual panicked way. Kaede decides to give her an out. “Do you want to actually help us make cranes now?”

“If we get to a thousand, we get to make a wish,” Tenko says. “But Tenko hasn’t been counting.”

Iruma snorts as she turns to them, though her gaze still wanders to Gonta in the corner of her eyes. “A wish we all have to share would probably suck ass anyway.”

“Tenko thinks she would wish for everyone to get better,” she says. “And then Kaede-san could wish that everyone is at peace, and Iruma-san could wish that we all find our place in the world.”

“It’s gonna take a whole fucking lot more than a few cranes for all that,” Iruma says.

“Tenko knows. One thousand is a lot—Tenko doesn’t think we’ve even made a hundred yet.”

Iruma rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, idiot.”

“Tenko knows.”

The repetitive movements are a nice center for her mind, and Kaede feels as at ease as she can when it seems like they’ve all been trapped inside a pressure cooker. 

Momota’s quick nap lasts from breakfast till dinner. Amami keeps fussing with the hair on the back of his head where Iruma’s airplane and Kaede’s shot-put ball landed. Yumeno tugs at Saihara’s sleeve to ask if they’re not best friends anymore since Momota’s awake now. 

The next morning, Shinguji is available, and the knot of dread Kaede feels in her stomach from her dreams stays with her when she wakes.

Maki pulling her aside does nothing to help. “Hey, I need to ask you something.”

Maki doesn’t seem confrontational, but Kaede can’t help but feel on guard. “Uh, sure?”

“If you tell anyone else about this, we’re going to have a problem,” Maki says. “But you’re not Momota, so you probably know how to keep a secret.”

“I mean,” Kaede says. “It depends what it is, so I can’t really promise that.”

Maki sighs but continues. “I snuck into one of the recording rooms and watched the footage from the other game.”

Kaede’s eyes widen. “Why did you—”

“Momota wouldn’t stop talking about it,” she says. “He kept saying all these… stupid things, and I had to know for myself.”

“So,” Kaede says. “What did you think about, um…”

“I understand why you act the way you do around me,” Maki says, and Kaede flinches. “But that doesn’t matter. There’s no killing game, so we don’t have any reason to fight. Besides, that wasn’t what I was going to ask you about.”

“Okay, so what do you want to know?”

“Ouma and I worked together because we both…” Maki tugs at her hair. “Forget it.”

“Huh?” 

“Never mind,” Maki says, already turning away. “Forget I said anything.”

It’s the longest one-on-one conversation she’s had with Maki that she can remember, and when she leaves, Kaede is left alone on her journey to Shinguji’s door. 

It isn’t a surprise that Shinguji didn’t get the regular greeting party, and when Kaede comes to visit him later, he keeps his head down. One of her cranes in his lap. It’s a pretty one, too, made out of green paper patterned with white flowers. Its wings look worse for wear after being worried by his anxious hands. 

He says very quietly, “thank you, Akamatsu-san. For coming to visit and for,” he fusses with the crane. “I wasn’t expecting any gifts. I wasn’t expecting anything…”

“We made them for everyone still asleep,” Kaede says. “It wouldn’t have felt right leaving you out.”

“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.” Shinguji looks very pale and even more fragile without his mask. “And please tell Chabashira-san thank you, too. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything when she visited. I think she might have thought I was being rude, but really I…”

“I think she understands,” Kaede says. “And I’ll make sure to tell her. I bet it will make her really happy that you like them.”

His thank you is barely audible. There’s a knock at the door, and Amami pops his head in. “Hey, you okay for more visitors?” Shinguji’s eyes widen, and he responds with a silent nod. Amami and an anxious looking Tojo file in. “Tojo-san wanted to say hi, and I figured I might as well tag along.”

Tojo lets out a shaky sigh. “What Amami-kun means to say is that I wanted to see you, and he offered to come with me for support.”

“I see,” Shinguji says, eyes darting back down to the merciful distraction of the crane. “I am sorry for what I did to you, and I understand if—”

“No, I—” Tojo says before taking a breath and composing herself. “I am at just as much fault, and I want to take responsibility for myself. I… I think I’ve been taking responsibility for the wrong things for too long, and I want to change that.”

Amami nods along with both of them. “I just wanted to say hey. So hey.”

Kaede gets the feeling they want their privacy and excuses herself with a slightly less intrusive hey than Amami’s. 

She relays Shinguji’s message to Tenko, and Maki gets close to asking her question two more times over the next few days. 

-

Hoshi scowls when Angie wakes up, but everyone else is happy enough. Her smiles seem strained around Kaede, and Tenko apologizes for not getting along while they were alive. Yumeno jumps on her bed for a hug, and they quietly leave the room.

Kiibo is only a day later, and Iruma shoves everyone out of his room, giving them only seconds to marvel at his human appearance. 

He and Angie have been laid up in bed long enough that they need help getting around while they work through their physical therapy. Angie’s wheelchair is perpetually on its back two wheels as she rocks back and forth. Iruma takes it as an invitation to stay glued to Kiibo’s side, always pushing him from place to place a touch too fast for his comfort. He tries to reject Angie’s offer for a race. Iruma says they’ll grind her into dust. 

But Kaede thinks having Iruma hovering around him is a blessing in disguise. She’s loud enough to ward off the extra attention that comes with everyone doing a double take at his new appearance. Kaede tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard not to watch his human fingers fumble with utensils and origami paper alike as he relearns his fine motor skills. Nothing gets her to look away faster than Iruma accusing her of ogling her boyfriend. 

There isn’t a rule against PDA, but Kaede can’t help but silently agree when Momota complains a bit too loudly one day that there should be. Iruma flips him off and leans in to give Kiibo a kiss on the cheek. 

Kiibo’s even harder to get alone than Momota, but being Iruma’s friend means he’s suddenly always around. Kaede asks, “So what’s it like being human? Are you adjusting okay?”

“According to the doctors I am on target for all of my physical goals, but it’s still strange. I know I wasn’t a robot for very long, or, um, at all really, but,” he sighs. “It’s hard to describe feeling jealous that everyone else can eat food and then getting hungry.” Iruma takes one of his hands and gives it a comforting squeeze. His voice sounds a little less hopeless. “It’s the little disconnects like that that are hard to keep up with.”

“But are you happy?” Tenko asks. “That you’re human, Tenko means.”

Kiibo thinks for a second. “It’s strange,” he decides on. “I can’t imagine I was ever grateful to be human before the game, but now I suppose I am. I didn’t think I would ever be happy to just be what I am, even if there are times when I’m not quite sure what that is.” 

“Well, I know what you are,” Iruma says. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Kiibo gives her a shy smile. “That is also true.”

They’re in the midst of sharing a moment, and Kaede looks to Tenko instead to give them what privacy she can. Tenko doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as she methodically folds the paper in her hands. Kaede never told her what the activity’s original purpose was and that they could have stopped long ago, but Tenko has a certain reverence for the busywork. 

While Kiibo and Iruma are still distracted with making eyes at each other, Kaede gently nudges Tenko’s foot with her own under the table. It startles her out of her reverie enough to look down and then look back up at Kaede with a smile and a blush when she locks their ankles together. 

-

After a few days of rain, they’re cleared to wander around the gardens again. Momota gets halfway through proposing restarting training sessions before faltering at who he would invite. Some days, Momota laughs naturally and smiles naturally and takes quips at his expense like they’re nothing. Other days Kaede looks at him and can’t help but remember when he confessed to her he was sick to death of being followed around by people expecting him to fix all their problems. 

Tenko says she likes being outside where the air is clearer, and there’s less noise to bounce off the walls and make them feel more crowded than they already are. On a walk through the gardens Kaede’s in the middle of expressing her guilt at leaving Momota to flounder when Tenko abruptly comes to a standstill. She wanders a few steps forward towards some of the largest bushes pressed up against the building, and Kaede follows after her, struggling to resist a laugh when she sees what caught Tenko’s eye.

“Momota-san?” Tenko asks, crouching down. “Why are you hiding in that bush?”

Momota freezes. He slowly turns on his heels towards them, the forced nonchalance in his voice breaking Kaede’s composure completely. “Oh, hey guys. What’s up?”

Kaede is useless as she barely contains her giggling behind her hands. Tenko repeats, “you’re in a bush.”

“Uh, yeah,” Momota says. “Guess I am. Anyway, what’s up with you?”

“You better not be doing anything weird,” Tenko warns.

Kaede manages to recover enough to say, “You are so lucky Iruma-san has therapy right now.”

Momota winces at whatever imaginary vulgarity must come to him. “God.”

“Are Saihara-san and Harukawa-san nearby?” Tenko asks.

Momota pauses, and Kaede assumes he’s conflicted over trying to play it off and admitting he’s been caught. He sighs “They just went back in.” 

“You know,” Kaede says. “Dangan Ronpa isn’t paying me to help you get your life together, but I think you have a problem.”

“No shit,” he says, stretching out his back as he stands. “It’s not a big deal, though. I just needed a minute to myself.”

“And you needed to hide from them to get that minute?” Kaede presses.

“Tenko thinks that sounds like a big deal.”

Momota rubs the back of his neck. “You guys don’t have to fucking tag-team me, geeze.”

“Sounds like you’ve been getting enough of that already,” Kaede says. 

“No,” he says. “Well, yeah, maybe. But it’s not their fault. I told them they could rely on me and they are. We’re friends.”

Kaede clears her throat. “Tenko-san, have you ever seen me coming and decided to hide in a bush?”

“Tenko has not.”

“Strange.”

Momota frowns. “Okay, fine, I get your point. It’s just,” he runs a hand through his hair. “Sometimes I’m thinking about other stuff than how you and Shuichi can be friends again or what if Maki—Harumaki—fuck.” 

He squeezes his eyes closed, and Tenko’s voice is gentler this time. “Momota-san, do you need to sit down?”

“No, I’m okay,” he says, though a hand remains pressed to his forehead. “It’s just… I get confused sometimes when I talk to Maki. I can’t remember what I said to her when, and she tries to hide it, but I know she gets upset when I start talking about shit she doesn’t remember.”

Kaede takes a second to decide before she spills Maki’s secret. “Harukawa-san already watched the footage from the other game. She knows everything.”

Momota’s eyes widen. “She what?”

“She told me not to tell anyone, but,” Kaede shrugs. “Maybe it’ll make things easier if you know.”

Kaede ends up getting the evil eye from Maki for the rest of the week, but Momota seems happier after whatever talk the two of them had. In between her glares, Maki seems happier, too.

He says as much to her on one of the few days they manage to find an hour alone. “Hey, I’ve been thinking about something. Ever since Harumaki and me talked, I feel like things have been better between us.”

Kaede raises an eyebrow. “Just how bad were things between you guys?”

“It was never bad,” he says. “Just… a little awkward sometimes. She, uh,” he rubs the back of his head. “She’s gonna be pissed if she hears I told you this, but she confessed to me before I died.”

“That’s not that hard to believe,” Kaede says. “What did you say?”

“Uh, that that was really cool?”

“Kaito, you didn’t.”

“Okay, okay, what I said at the time was way cooler than that, but I didn’t exactly say I loved her back, you know?”

“Did she try to bring it up again or something?”

Momota sighs. “Not directly, but I know she wants to sometimes. But that’s not what I wanted to ask you about. I want your opinion on Shuichi.”

Kaede bristles. “Um, I don’t know if I’m a good person to ask about him.”

“Yeah, I know you two need to get your shit together,” Momota says offhandedly. “But this isn’t about that.”

Kaede is unimpressed. “Then what is it about?”

“What do you think would happen if I tried being more honest with Shuichi?” Momota asks. “Like, the way I am with you.” 

“How are you with me?” Kaede asks. “We’re just normal friends, right?”

Momota pauses. “You haven’t really seen me around Shuichi and Harumaki, huh? Maybe that’s a good thing. You’d think I’m a worse liar than Kokichi, if you did.”

Kaede thinks for a moment. Then, “I’ve heard you slip up and call him ‘Kokichi’ before.”

Momota winces. “Well, that’s sorta what this is about. I’m planning to test the waters with Harumaki soon. I’m not sure about Shuichi yet. ‘Cause, like, I can argue with you or Harumaki and shit, and we’re fine. You can handle it if someone punches you in the face, you know?”

“I’d prefer if they didn’t,” Kaede says blandly.

“Okay, that was a bad metaphor, but you know what I mean,” Momota says. “I remember getting into, like, one fight with Shuichi, and… he isn’t like you. He didn’t call me out on being an asshole. He just got really sad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for when we ‘get our shit together,’” Kaede says.

Momota smiles wryly back. “You should. It’s just that—do you ever feel like you have to be a certain person around some people and if you can’t, you’re letting them down?”

Kaede thinks it over. “I think I gave up on that a while ago.”

“I’m thinking maybe I should, too.”

They’re both quiet for a long time. Momota says, “Kokichi’s gonna wakeup, right?”

“Of course he is,” Kaede says. “He—what was it—plays to win or something.”

Momota smiles. “You’re right. Guess I just… wonder what the hell he’s taking so much damn time for.”

“He did always like to make an entrance,” Kaede says. “So try and stop worrying, or at least worry a little less. You didn’t kill him.”

“God, I hope you’re right.”

-

When they get the news that Ouma has finally regained consciousness, Momota gets into a loud argument with the nurses about visiting him that ends with him backing down in a huff.

Kaede sees Saihara place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Maki tells him it’ll be fine and he needs to stop being an impatient idiot. 

The first day Ouma’s been cleared to see people, they’re told he’s asked for no visitors. Kaede hears Momota say, “fuck that,” under his breath, before he gets up and storms into Ouma’s room. 

Almost everyone follows him on his march, and Kaede catches a glimpse of Ouma somehow looking even frailer than she remembers staring wide eyed when Momota gets dragged away by an orderly. Momota manages to shout, “unfold the fucking crane!” before they all get escorted to another room to be scolded together.

Ouma allows visitors the next day. With the exception of Maki darting in and out of the room to check on them and pull at her hair, Momota’s the only one to go see him. Kaede debates going but decides they probably want their privacy. Momota stays as long as the staff lets him and all day again the next day. 

Kaede notices Saihara staring longingly after Momota on the third day when he dashes out of the dining hall after wolfing down his breakfast. Kaede takes a deep breath and tells Tenko and Iruma she’s going to do something she should have a long time ago.

She starts her second conversation with Saihara with, “So, does Kaito seem different to you at all?”

On the fourth day, Momota is beaming ear to ear as he pushes Ouma’s wheelchair a bit too eagerly. Ouma is quiet, but he doesn’t seem scared or nervous. Instead, his gaze flickers coolly over everyone and everything as Momota eagerly speaks for him in every odd reintroduction. 

He keeps his eyes downcast when Momota wheels him over to Iruma and Kiibo sitting with Gonta and Hoshi. 

Ouma seems somehow more uncomfortable around Saihara, as Momota makes them exchange names as if they didn’t go through a killing game together. Ouma is silent even when Momota nudges him for his turn in their greeting, and Saihara forces a smile and says, “Well, maybe this will be a good chance for us to get along better.”

Momota nudges at Ouma’s shoulder a second time, resulting only in an irritated look and him pulling at Momota’s sleeve. Momota leans down, and they get into a whisper fight that Kaede purposefully decides to tune out of on the off chance Saihara asks her about it later.

When it’s Kaede’s turn, Ouma speaks for himself. “You don’t have to play peacekeeper between me and Akamatsu-chan.”

“I’ll only do that if you start a fight,” Momota says. 

Ouma pauses. His response is a soft, “no promises,” before he turns to Kaede. “So, you read Momota-chan’s letter, right?”

“Oh no,” Momota says, waving a hand. “Kaede promised she wouldn’t.”

“I read it as soon as Kaito gave it to me.”

Momota squawks at her confession, and Ouma smiles. “So you already know everything.”

“I know Kaito,” she says. “Do I know you?”

Ouma sighs. “Momota-chan said I should just do whatever feels right. So I’m going to lie.”

“Go for it,” Kaede says.

“Then you don’t know the first thing about me,” Ouma says. “And neither does Momota-chan, and it’s hopeless to try and get along with someone like me.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Momota says.

“Kaito, he said it was a lie.”

“Well, I know, but he still shouldn’t say it.”

Kaede laughs, and Ouma tugs on Momota’s sleeve again. Kaede lets herself listen in this time. “She doesn’t hate me.”

“Course she doesn’t,” Momota whispers back. “No one hates you.”

Ouma doesn’t say anything back to him. Instead, “did you hear that, Akamatsu-chan?”

“I did,” Kaede says. “Or do you want me to lie?”

“I’ve always preferred lying, but that’s just me,” Ouma says. “You shouldn’t let someone else make all your decisions for you.”

Momota scolds him until Ouma tells him he’s not feeling tired at all and would like to keep talking to everyone else.

Ouma isn’t exactly welcomed with open arms, but his presence is accepted. Kaede decides the day she sees Maki sit across from him, every muscle in her body wound tight as she forces out an apology, marks the crest of their uphill battle. 

-

Tenko’s room is decorated with cranes lining her shelves, perched at her windowsill, and organized into strings she asks Kaede to help her hang from her ceiling on a rainy day. 

Kaede picks up an adorably tiny one on her bedside table. “You should have heard Ouma-kun the other day,” she says, turning it over in her hands. “He was talking about how when he first woke up and Kaito told him to check the cranes, he just looked around at the five hundred in his room, and was like—”

“He couldn’t have had that many,” Tenko says. “That means that more than half would be in his room.”

Kaede thinks her voice is sadder than it should be. “Oh, well, I guess I exaggerated then.”

“It’s fine,” she says. “And… maybe Ouma-san does have five hundred. Tenko hasn’t been keeping track very well.”

“But if you did, what would you wish for?”

“For everyone to—”

“What would you wish for if you were selfish?”

Tenko pauses. “Maybe for the world to make sense again,” she says. “Or to feel… to want to be able to express emotions openly again. Or maybe just to understand why it’s so hard to be happy when everything turned out so well.”

Kaede sets the tiny crane down. Somewhere between the excitement of the others coming back and the changes for the better in her life, the scars had slipped through the cracks. “It’s okay if you’re still thinking about what happened in the game, or if you’re not ready to move on yet. You’ve been,” she gestures vaguely until she finds the words, “inhumanly forgiving, but it’s okay if you’re angry or upset or—”

“Tenko also thinks she would wish,” she says, “and this is a selfish wish—that the world really is a kind and good place, and when we leave, Tenko will see that and realize how silly she’s been for not being happy.”

Kaede crosses the room to take her hands. She doesn’t really know what to say or how to comfort someone voicing all the cynical thoughts that dragged on her every time she stared out at the city lights or saw a Team Dangan Ronpa logo or was reminded why some of her friends were only awake just now. But she does know Tenko has always been there for her. 

“I don’t know if the world is good or bad,” Kaede says. “Or if it even makes sense to think about it like that. It just is, and it’s where we live—hopefully where we’ll live for a really long time. And right now, I’m here trying to live with you.” She squeezes her hands. “So you don’t need to force yourself to be happy when you’re not or put all your hopes on a wish because you’re alive and I’m alive, and even if that’s not enough right now—”

She’s pulled into a hug, Tenko’s face pressed against her shoulder. “No! It is, it is—” The rest of her words are drowned out as she starts to cry, but Kaede makes her saying out, “Tenko promises it is.”

They stand there, surrounded by dozens of strings of pretty folded pieces of paper, holding each other while the rain taps and taps and fades to nothing against Tenko’s window. 

When Tenko starts to calm down, Kaede says, “if the world is good, we’ll find our place in it, and if it’s not, then we’ll carve out our own corner and make it good, okay? The game was horrible, but we’re not going to let some TV show decide whether we get a happy ending or not. I think it’ll be hard—maybe even really hard—but we get to live, and that means we get to be free, and change, and—and do whatever else we want.”

“Tenko—” she takes a shuddering breath. “I want to stay with you.”

Kaede thinks she might cry, too, when Tenko holds her close. She says as much. They kiss. She laughs and rubs the budding tears from her eyes.

-

Kaede knows there’s one more challenge looming closer and closer, marked by a day on her calendar that reads: _Shirogane-san comes._

For the moment, Kaede can see the stitches still fraying and creases yet to be ironed out, but she also sees Iruma drag Kiibo to sit with her when she visits Gonta and Hoshi, Yumeno getting embarrassed when Angie catches her picking apology flowers for Tenko, Shinguji hesitantly reaching out and being accepted in return, and Ouma quietly tucked under Momota’s arm as he babbles away to Maki and Saihara. 

Kaede doesn’t know how far she’s gone on her own path, but she knows she hasn’t strayed to the side. For the time being, she knows that’s good enough and she knows she will be better.

**Author's Note:**

> Today is the anniversary of my far too lengthy fic I'd Trade my Life for Yours (and that's not an April Fool's joke)! I always regret the date a little since today is the one day a year I want to be serious about fandom stuff, haha. 
> 
> Anyway! As specified in the note at the top, this is non-canon, but I got a request about two months ago to write something that takes place in this odd hybrid universe since I have to admit it's the kind of happy feel-good stuff that everyone (and by everyone, I mean me, haha) loves even if it doesn't quite fit tonally with the original work. I ended up doubling the word count of that original piece and decided that this would be a nice thing to post for the anniversary as one last hurrah. 
> 
> So thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone!


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